


Death Meets All, But He's Not Death

by Skullszeyes



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Enemies, Existentialism, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, Not Really Character Death, Randomness, Reapers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 23:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18679405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: He meets them when they die, he knows their time and date, and when he comes upon an old enemy, he's happily aware of what comes next.





	Death Meets All, But He's Not Death

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure what to write, I simply wanted to write another fic with Izaya. :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy anyway.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

Some people didn’t see him, and sometimes he didn’t think that was fair. And when they did see him, he’d wave and annoy them and when he was finished, he’d walk away with a state of boredom of their ceaseless conversation. 

He didn’t think he was cruel, even when this one girl screamed at him that he was. He danced around them, singing a song they kept screaming at him to stop. Over and over again, he would annoy them until they faded away into the wind and sky. Sometimes even the stars didn’t want them, and they’d eventually melt into the dark, and he would hear a different kind of scream. 

It wasn’t his fault, he’d tell them. A reminder that passes through his lips, through his smile, through the twinkle in his eyes and the tone of his voice. It wasn’t his fault what happened to them, it’s not like he was the one who told them to do it, or the end of it wasn’t his fault, and it’s not like they knew him to understand him. Nor did he care that much about them, but one touch on their skin, he knew them from the day they were born to the day they no longer drew breath. 

There were times when he could enter one world and the other. When he would find himself talking to ordinary people, and with a touch of their hand, or closeness of their breath, he would see it. The years, months, weeks, minutes, seconds, to the end of each of their lives, and he would smile and smile and offer up a bit of advice. 

Sometimes it wasn’t exactly as cruel, but he wouldn’t consider it nice either. Live your life, evolve, thrive in every way possible. Remember, your life is ending, and talking to a random stranger isn’t going to help you. 

He’d get odd expressions from most, sometimes insults, and awkward smiles with awkward phrases before they decided to move on with their lives. 

One day, he was sitting in a park, and he had entered the one world where everyone could see him, touch him, hear him, and he was eating alone, moving his legs like some of the children would do, and some would imitate him and he’d smile and look away. He didn’t like looking at children, their numbers were vast, but sometimes they weren’t. 

He loved this. He one day declared to himself with proficient realization that filled his heart to the brim. He loved humans. He loved them! So many variations of them, a grand diversity that grew in numbers upon numbers each and every day. And they were completely different from one another. Living and breathing and existing in their own way, completely apart from each other, but also sharing themselves with one another. 

Dancing, singing, yelling, screaming, and all the bad parts, and all the good parts. They either got too close to the edge of their pain and hatred or love, and sometimes they jumped, while others backed away, wary of the fall that would surely hurt when they slam into the ground. 

They were all completely detailed and vague, some were gray and others were colorful. And they stood on paths that led to the same place, and some took it in different ways, but death always greeted them in its less annoying ways. 

It was beautiful. And when he finished his food, he danced and danced and danced, ignoring the people who walked around him, giving him those familiar odd expressions. It was such a beautiful day with myriads of existence around him. 

He entered one world and the next and the next and the next until he met everyone. The night fell around him, stars broken apart from the pollution, and the lights burning as he skipped along the streets. He thrummed with energy, it sang in his veins, and he hummed with glee, because he loved it so much. How could he not?

Until he found someone, they were different, oddly out of place from everyone else. And he knew because their name sometimes left his tongue in a disgusted way, but this was more interesting, more surprising that he couldn’t stop his smile from spreading across his face. 

He had faced someone like him before. They asked if life ever lived like he had lived, and he told them that it was more of a barren surface upon the earth, and the basic need of water is all anyone needed. If you thirst for that drop, you should do anything for it. Beyond the pain and torment of your everyday life, that drop of water should be what you strive for, and nothing more. 

Not many people understand that, and he let the person fade away with this piece of knowledge. Gone. A speck of another day wiped from life itself. Oh, how they hated him because of this. He was the only one who knew, and not many understood because they offered their lives up instead of giving everything for that drop of water. 

It was not his job to tell them this, but he didn’t care. Not anymore, if he was going to give up everything, it might as well be for his own benefit. He was simply living for the fact that he wasn’t in two imposing factors. 

He guesses this shouldn’t have been that surprising, but he slows his pace as the other notices him. He continues to hum while his pace slows. And he does what he always does when he meets people like him. He waves and wants to start acting annoying, but the man said he was annoying on default, so really, is there a point? 

A blade in his pocket sits untouched, and he doesn’t need it. Not now. Not when the peak of their lives have come together. Finally, and its utterly hilarious that he lets out a laugh.

He walks into one world and then the next, and it’s a beautiful transition. He doesn’t notice, he doesn't care, but he stares and stares because he knows something he shouldn’t. 

“The day has finally come,” he tells the other as he finally stops in the middle of the sidewalk. It smelled of strong rain while cars go by on the road in streaks of silver light. “Death has truly followed your steps, and it only makes sense you end up on the same path as me.”

He glares under the shadow of his dyed blonde hair. Fists clenched, body taught with unrelenting tension. There was a growl rumbling in his throat, in his chest, and he’s hungry for wrath and fury upon the open street. 

And he hears broken glass, shattered debris, screams upon screams as the rain pelts the road in the near future. It’s a colossal waste of time, because now he’s here and it no longer matters. This monster can’t run much more, he can’t walk the same street as he always has. 

It’s almost heartbreaking if he cared, if only he reached out and loved him like he loved many others in their rage and emptiness. With their haunted eyes upon the field of maggots and bones, the stench of decay and lull of forgotten cries and screams.

The songs did not belong to him. No. He wasn’t Death with its sharp, blood stained scythe. He wasn’t its helper or its destruction, or even its salvation. 

He was a witness. 

A single witness of time infinity. And maybe he belonged with the torment, but he had lost his mind a long time ago. Now he stood in front of a horrid creature he had hated the second he set eyes on him when they were young, and when he wasn’t fully aware of his status. 

“You’re making no sense, flea,” the creature growled. 

He laughed, because it made sense to him, and he stepped under a lamp light that reacted to his presence, and said, “You’re going to die, Shizu-chan, and I’m here to watch you fade away.”

“You’re lying,” he snapped. A feral monster, that’s all he deserved to be remembered by, and it only made sense that it was night. He would melt into darkness where his screams would follow the symphony of many others.

Orihara Izaya smiled, tilting his head to the side, and appeared to look innocent except he gained the opposite effect as he stood menacingly under the flickering light while the layers of his true personality revealed itself with three simple words: “I never lie.”


End file.
